A Speedster's Savvy
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: Bruce couldn't have been any happier to get out of his conference, returning to his office to see he had two voicemails waiting for him. One told him that Dick and Wally were heading off to the mall for the afternoon. The other told him Dick had been shot.


**Everything I used for research on this is from Google, so forgive me if I'm off on description on most of this. In this fic, Dick and Wally are just best friends. I did not and do not intend their affections to be anything more than brotherly in this fic. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Most likely OOC. **

* * *

It was a little after four when Bruce finally managed to escape the conference, an exasperated sigh parting his lips only after he had managed to lock the door behind him and had reclined on the leather sofa along the wall in his office. As important as it was for Wayne Tech to secure the deal before the 21st, he really had no overwhelming desire to stay in a stuffy room at a table for six hours with a bunch of stiffs in suits, especially with what was supposed to go down tomorrow.

For months now, the League had been tracking the League of Shadows and it seemed, just a few weeks ago, that they had picked up a lead. It was small, definitely something to squint at, but it was there and the chance that they could find and bring down as big public threat as this wasn't something they could just turn down. Four possible hideouts had been determined and the plan was to send out the younger and elder team to go investigate.

He had already marked on the calendar that he and his ward would be leaving state for three days on the excuse that Dick was feeling 'homesick' and they would be heading down to Haley's Circus for the weekend. A sweet gesture, he was assured by a gushing secretary. A dangerous gesture that could lose him his ward, he reminded himself when he had found himself smiling.

Bruce didn't worry for a moment though, finally slipping his phone from his pocket and setting it on his stomach while he enjoyed the couch's comfort. Dick could handle himself. For a fourteen year old, the acrobat had accomplished things Bruce hadn't been able to on his own until he was nearing college. That could have to factor in the fact that he had lacked circus-experience and a personal trainer, but he wasn't jealous. There was pride in its place instead.

A quick glance at his phone told him he had missed two calls- Dick and then an unknown number. Both had left him voicemails. He pressed Dick's first and held the phone to his ear.

"_Hey, Bruce_," his ward's voice energetically tumbled out, a crowd's dull roar muffled behind him, "_Just wanted to let you know in case you get out of your conference early that me and KF are hanging out for a while. Up at the mall in Star City—he said there's some... 'new restaurant' down in the food court and he wanted someone to come with him to try it out. I'll be home about… 4? 4:30? He offered to run me by,_" Wally's voice sounded muffled from close by and Dick giggled, "_Shut up, dude! Ah- yeah. I've got my shades, my belt… my phone's staying on; call if you need me. See you at dinner._"

A small beep told him the message was over and the man managed a smile. He hadn't been sure about Wally and Dick becoming friends outside of their costumes, but the redhead had really proved himself as of recent so there really wasn't a reason to worry. They could take care of themselves, and most definitely each other. He would never admit it, but he had actually found himself growing quite fond of the other boy. If his ward had to have a best friend, he was glad it was Wally.

The billionaire considered calling his ward for a moment to see if he had gotten home alright, but he decided against it and just smiled a moment longer before playing the new number's voicemail.

It started off with the hysterics of a large crowd, ranging from feminine shrieks to a more manly variety. They lasted a few seconds before a gunshot went off and Bruce was sitting up straight with wide eyes. There was a warbled cry, someone choking, and the distinct crash of tables hitting linoleum.

"_Three men_," Wally's voice sounded quick and panicked, out of breath as he seemed to be pulling someone with him.

The person he was holding was letting out groans and muffled cries of agony, all torn with what almost sounded like sobs.

"_Caucasian. Roughly the same height, p-possibly related, between 5'7" and 6'1". Bulky, not fat. One had a ta… tattoo on his right shoulder, something winged. Bird? Angel? Square jaws, all about… late thirties. Skilled with guns. Thick accents, New York? All had black… _rubbed_ over their knuckles- words- more tattoos… n-not sure. Bald or very thin cut hair. Screamed something about-_," a voice sobbed out beneath him, drawing his name out in a whimper and he let out a terrified sob, "_Hell- Mr. Wayne! Dick's been shot._"

That was enough to get the man on his feet and fling him to the door, quicking a glance at the call to see when it had taken place. 3:54. That was barely ten minutes ago. He had time. There wasn't a second wasted in running down the hall and taking the three flights of stairs, the phone still pressed to his ear.

"_Tore through his shoulder… I-I can see the bullet.. I don't… I don't think it's fatal. He hit his head though… ah… ah…" _the sobs were violent and it sounded like Wally was setting Dick down against something. "_Going… going to keep him c-conscious… There's a… l-lot of blood… Dick's safe. I've got him… Oh god… God! I'm so sorry… I'm so… so sorry..."_

Bruce was in his car now, peeling out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires. He was tempted to call the police, but he knew they'd be swarmed by now. All he could do was pray Wally knew what he was doing and keep his foot to the gas.

"_I'm going to save him, Mr. Wayne. He's my best friend. I'm not going to let him die."_

* * *

Wally was quick to wipe the tears from his cheeks, peeking a glance back to make sure no one could see them in the blocked off stairwell before squatting down and cupping Dick's face lightly in his hands. Regularly, he'd be squirming about having to touch the pink drool that stained the ebony's chin from where it had left his bluish lips, but he had so much more to focus on now.

"Come on, Dick," he lightly patted his friend's cheek until he saw his eyelids flutter and had a slow drifting blue gaze meeting his through the tears, "You have to stay awake for me, alright? You can't go to sleep… nuh-uh… I promised… I know it hurts, but you have to stay awake…"

The fourteen year old choked on a bitter sob, his head lolling into the redhead's touch, a steady stream of the pink spit slipping down between his legs at the shift. At his attempt to breathe, a broken wheeze sounded from his parted lips though the only air he managed out was through his nose.

"Wah… eehh…" the blue eyes fluttered again and a trembling hand grabbed onto the older boy's jacket sleeve, the only indication that it had been his name choked out, "Cohd…"

The hands holding him up gently patted his cheek again, whispering softly that he needed to stay awake before Dick's head was set against the wall and shaky hands took to peeling off his jacket.

"I know you're cold, buddy… that's the shock kicking in… you were shot," Wally spoke calmly, grimacing at the blood stain on the back of the hoodie but even harder at the distant sound of gunshots.

Why weren't the police here yet?

He gave up trying to push the fourteen year old's head up, letting it rest down against his chest with a frustrated bite to his lip.

"You aren't going to die on me… it's just your shoulder… how's your breathing?"

The question earned him two odd spaced wheezes and throaty gurgles. At least he _was_ breathing.

The redhead tried his hardest to keep his friend calm, but he wasn't sure of the good it would do. Acceptance didn't save you from a bullet. Neither did a coma. He was quick in pulling off the bloody white t-shirt underneath, the ability to breathe leaving his memory the second he saw the gaping and blood-seeping wound against the pale skin. In his panic, he had a hard time determining if the blood was ultimately dark or a regular red. Either a vein was cut or just some smaller capillaries. He prayed the latter. Either way, he needed pressure.

The second he applied it, a strangled scream jerked Dick's head back against the wall with a hollow thud. He had never been more thankful for wooden walls. They were still up from the jungle exhibit, the whole reason the stairway was marked off. The jungle animals earned a cheer in the back of his mind.

The scream had smeared saliva-tainted gobs of blood onto his freckles, but he didn't wipe them away. He just pressed the white shirt tighter to the wound's front entrance, heart hammering at even the thought of the back entrance. Was he supposed to remove the bullet or leave it in? He needed to cover Dick up, but he had to keep the pressure.

His heart hammered fast enough to leave him dizzy, his stomach lining his throat in seconds.

"B-Belt?" he managed to choke out, freeing one hand for just a second to wipe the drool from the ebony's lips so he could possibly breathe comfortably.

The blue eyes seemed flat almost as they looked him up and down, the word seeming foreign until the fourteen year old's translated them. He swallowed past a knot in his throat, fingers grasping now at his friend's stomach as he lost the strength to raise his arm any higher.

"Pah…" he coughed hard, a whimper lining each desperate inhale, "pahcke…t.. heh..."

Pocket. Wally wasted no shame in sweeping his hand over the front of his friend's jeans, finding the bulge of the utility belt in his right pocket and pulling it out with one hand. The hesitation was quick in his eyes as he realized to rummage, he'd have to stop applying pressure. He wasn't sure how much blood had been lost already and he didn't really want to risk anymore. The bullet was surely plugging the other side. He had seen it when he had pulled off the white shirt. Sure, the leakage had Dick's back a faint shade of red, but it was nothing compared to the entry wound.

"There you go, buddy… Keep breathing… Stay awake, please… I need you to hold this," he grabbed Dick's right hand with his free one and pressed it over the hand he had holding the white shirt to the wound.

His friend's fingers curled desperately around his own, a shaky sob leaving the ebony's bloody lips.

"I'm scared," Dick mouthed slowly, shutting his eyes in a slow blink that sent a thick stream of tears down his cheek.

Wally gently set his forehead against the ebony's, taking a shuddery breath through his nose to keep from crying out like he wanted to at the stabbing pain of his heart breaking. He felt so… _helpless_.

"I know… I know you're scared…. I'm scared, too… but… but…" he took Dick's other hand and pressed it over his other, pulling his own hands out and resting them on top to make sure the younger teen was holding a firm pressure to the wound. He let his hands rest when he saw the comfort the touch seemed to bring, a slow stream of tears sliding down his cheeks and hanging on his chin, "But I'm right here… I'm not going to let you die. Now… I need you… to keep pressure on that… _please_…"

The ebony bobbed his head in understanding, the movement rubbing some of Wally's tears onto his nose. The wetness made him tense, his eyes weakly opening just a crack.

"Yeuurrh… cruhyi?"

He tried to swallow, but the spit spilled over and broke his parted lips, splashing down onto the white shirt and staining it even pinker. The real red stain was trapped under the four hands. Wally gave a soft chuckle, obviously ironic, giving a final squeeze to Dick's hands before hurrying to unfold the utility belt.

"Of course I'm crying, dummy. My best friend was _shot_," the sniffle was from habit and not for effect, his fingers flying to open the folds to look for bandage, "If you'll hold on for me, I'll announce it on live TV and tell everyone who's interested that I cried like a little girl. D-deal?"

Another steady track joined his cheeks when he saw Dick press the shirt tighter to his chest with a weak smile.

"Deeahh."

Dick's head lolled to the side with a small pop and he let it rest on his good shoulder, the pink liquid slipping his lips to his elbow before it dripped to the floor. It wasn't comfortable by any means, but he couldn't feel anything past the agonizing burn and what felt like his clavicle shattering and breaking off into a million different shards in a million different directions.

He almost didn't feel it when Wally pulled his hands away from his chest, but he definitely did when the disinfectant sprayed over the entrance wound and the gauze pad was pressed tight in place. The tensor bandage wasn't any more sparing; a groan slipping his lips as his arm was pulled a bit to the side so it could firmly be wrapped tight enough to keep the pressure strong. The pain had him seeing stars. Hisses and groans unconsciously left his lips alongside the whimpers, breaths gasped for when the bandage was clipped still.

"There we go," Wally whispered, taking Dick's hands tightly in his own and squeezing them, searching his friend's face to see if the contact had registered at all.

There was a slight twitch in the ebony's cheek and his fingers curled in slowly.

"Is it tight enough?" the redhead whispered, relaxing a bit at the curt nod. "Good… want me to come sit next to you?"

At the repeated nod, Wally took the step just below his friend so the ebony had a head rest and slid his arm protectively around the bare back. In his other hand, he held the tranquilizer gun.

"I know you don't feel like it… but you have to stay awake for me…" he rested his head against the darker one with a hard frown, "If you fall asleep… you'll miss your dad skinning me for not protecting you."

He felt slow hands pull at his pant leg weakly and heard a jumbled swallow.

"N… not… yeehr… haault…" Dick slurred out, making a sound like an old elevator trying to screech to a stop for the desired floor when he went for a breath.

The redhead wouldn't buy it.

"It was my idea to come here anyway… and I promised I'd have you home by four. It's completely my fault… so I'm going to get you to help. You hear those sirens too, right?"

He lifted his eyes and his emerald eyes met brief flashes of the blue behind fluttering eyelids. That was all he had to see.

It took maybe three seconds. The utility belt was rolled up and stuffed in Wally's jacket pocket, the gun in with it, and Dick was cradled tight to his chest like a newborn child.

"Don't feel bad, Dick… even the best heroes need saving sometimes," were the last words the ebony heard before his friend took to running them both into a bright blur.

The sudden wind smacked his pounding head and he was rendered unconscious in the redhead's arms, better than the stairwell at least, his head weakly thumping against the speedster's shoulder as the sixteen year old dodged them through downed tables and injured bodies straight into a waiting ambulance. He laid Dick down on a flattened gurney and strapped him in carefully, lifting the hair from his forehead in an affectionate apology. As he turned to leave, he found the wide eyes of an EMT on him, another gurney halfway in the process of being lifted in.

They held gazes for just a moment and the stranger understand, nodding his secrecy and letting Wally stay on with a finger pressed to his lips for added assurance. The ambulance doors were shut carefully behind them and a few moments later, he felt them take off in a hurry to where he assumed a hospital to be. His hand found its way into his friend's somewhere along the ride, just before he picked up his phone and called Bruce.

* * *

The party was roaring loud, the tables stuffed with attendees about to start enjoying dinner with friendly chatter, loud laughter and giggles all the same. The noise was cut when the host stood and tapped his glass with the side of his fork.

"A toast," Bruce Wayne beamed, holding his wine up with a warm glance down to the two boys at his left, "to Wally West, the boy whose quick acting saved my ward's life and ensured his attackers were put behind bars."

The glasses rose and shone in the light of the chandeliers like a grounded version of the starry night, all of which reflected in the redhead's modest grin.

"To Wally," Dick gave a snort with a grateful grin of his own and they all drank to it.

* * *

**-F.J. III**


End file.
